All I Really Want To Do
by rookieD
Summary: (One-shot) Post 4.6. Bumping into your friend is always a pleasant surprise, right?


_A/N: In my universe this brief interlude takes place the morning after 4.6_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam shakes his head; one part surprised that they're both...here, one part wanting to rid the selection of thoughts that always seem to just...pop up unannounced any time McNally is near.

"Hey there, friend." Despite the dense haze that has started to invade his senses, the words somehow find their way out into the fresh morning air. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, challenging his grin to dare a similar escape.

(Memories of stop-bys they'd do at this place before things went south are already starting to form an alliance with close relatives.)

He knows she's smiling before she even turns to face him. He can read her ears, you see. The way they perk up in a similar vein to the way those pointy eyebrows of hers do -

He casts his eyes away from her neck when he catches himself looking at that part of her too closely though; pretty blush that reminds him of times that he 183% should _not_ be thinking about.

She pivots on her heel the way that he likes; all hips and bravado, shoulders rolling and then squaring up even as she commences the turn.

By the time she's facing him directly, she's wearing the smile she's most famous for; shiny and white like the halo it is. "Good morning, pal!"

Sam continues biting into his lip. Although...his mouth is twitching a little more than he'd like -

He gives himself a reprieve from the depth of her gaze momentarily, casting his eyes in the direction of the sizable vessel she's gripping tight in her hands. Her nails are short and reasonably neat today, only a couple look as though they might have been given a workout in the past 24 hours.

He takes a deep breath, wonders if he's about to say the wrong thing. When he decides it _could_ be construed as a little presumptuous...(after all, things might have changed), he makes sure his next words come out sounding like a question: "OJ, banana, and peach?"

He looks back up to her eyes, breathes out when her smile is still there. "Extra banana today," she informs, "my po-tass-eee-umm needs a good boost."

Sam can feel his eyebrows making their familiar climb; the one that often takes place when she says something that has him feeling fond and bemused -

He sucks in his cheeks, gets a good grip on their insides with his mint flavored molars. He feels his whole chest inflate with some of the oxygen that made it's way in the last time he opened his mouth.

(He can't help this thing...this whatever it is...that's pumping around his body in time with his blood. It _is_ good to have her back. Even better now that they've crawled their way here -

_Wherever_ here is.)

When he trusts himself not to burst into some sort of rapture that could be misconstrued as flirting, Sam opens his mouth once again. "It's important to keep your heart in good health."

There's a pause after that; piped music in the juice bar and other customers appearing to stop and anticipate the sequel. The one where Sam attempts to take his foot out of his mouth.

The beat McNally missed was an easy one though. Evidently _she_ understood Sam was not in fact trying to be an insensitive fool. She's graceful and gentle with her retort, albeit with some sass at the edge:

"I notice _your_ hands are still empty, comrade. Can I get one for you?" She tempts him with the most blinding of smiles. "My treat."

Sam unleashes his own simper then, his dimples starting to replace any trace of coy that was left on his face. "Okay." He nods, feeling better about things after that loosening in his chest. He continues to nod and say a few more silent okays as he waits to see what she thinks he might like from the board.

(Whenever they'd come here before he'd tend to stick with the basics. Apple and/or pineapple most of the time -

Although he did confess to her once that he actually didn't mind the flavors and concoctions she used to get.

Possibly he was partial because of how she'd taste when they kissed while waiting for his...)

Sam tenses a fraction, glancing around to see if anyone can see the guilt on his face. He schools his features carefully, returning his eyes eventually to study the way McNally is continuing to research the board. A small smile creeps up on him again.

"Okay..." she ponders, deep in thought as she squeezes the tip of her straw between two fingers. She taps at her chin as she _hmmms_. "You still detoxing?" she inquires casually, eyes not shifting away from the board.

Sam sticks his tongue in his cheek. There's not a whole lot that gets past her. Despite his steadfast attempts to remain on guard since she got back, it's pretty clear she's had his number more often than not -

So much so that he wonders if she knows him better than he knows himself.

He shrugs. He's still trying to be very conscious when it comes to looking after himself, but ice green tea is really not something he wants to think about drinking day after day for the rest of his life. "I'm drinking coffee again..." As simple as the confession is, it makes him feel lighter than he has in a very long time.

"Ohhhh-kayyyy..." McNally repeats. Her eyes are still reading the menu but her eyebrows are at an angle that suggest Sam's answer gives her something that might come back to bite him in the ass down the track.

He takes a step closer in her direction, plants his feet just outside what he thinks might be the personal space of a friend that also happens to be your colleague and ex. He wonders maybe if it's too close, the way her familiar warmth seeps into him...the way he can smell her fruity shampoo...the way his whole body feels like it's about to smash and shatter all over the place...

McNally's face turns over her shoulder, breaking the tailspin Sam found himself in. Her smile is still genuine, and something really beautiful is levelled Sam's way with her eyes. She rotates her shoulders to hold her cup up to him. "Taste test," she demands cutely, poking the straw up to his mouth.

Sam leans forward a little, doesn't think twice about taking a sip. He's got to admit the combination of flavors is good; sweet, but not too sweet.

"Delicious, right?" She smirks, definitely smug with her victory over Sam's expression. And she honestly couldn't look more beautiful, he thinks. This enthusiasm and energy she has for everything reminding Sam of what attracted him way back in a seedy alley that day.

He takes another step in, bumps her shoulder with his. He considers arguing with her momentarily, just for fun. Telling her he'd prefer apple instead. But he kind of likes the idea of them starting this day with something in common. Likes the thought of them sharing something so simple and nice. He sighs, feigning resignation, then gives her a wink. He knows before it happens that his voice is about to go softer than it probably should. "It is."

McNally raises her hand to get the attention of the server. Her smile to the young woman behind the counter is only slightly less endearing than the ones she's given to Sam so far today.

When the drink gets handed over not long after, Sam thanks the server, then turns to McNally again. He smiles as he holds his cup out for a cheers, locks his gaze into hers as the two styrofoams butt. "Thanks, pal," his tone only with an ounce of the teasing he's trying to force.

"Friends forever," McNally winks, brushing off any need for his gratitude with an exaggerated wave of her hand. She grins broadly as she raises the straw back toward her lips.

Sam concerns himself with getting that image out of his head before he makes his way into work.


End file.
